Kevin Gregg

The moment I wake upBefore I put on my makeupI say a little prayer for youWhile combing my hair, nowAnd wonder what thong to wear, nowI say a little prayer for you

Forever, forever, Domonic, you’ll stay in my heartAnd I will love youForever, and ever, we never will partOh, how I’ll love youTogether, together, that’s how it must beTo live without youWould only mean heartbreak for me

Greetings!!! Tis I, Beddict the blessed, back up in that a** like a boomerang, and I’m not talkin Eddie Murphy. You know the thrown tool, typically constructed as a flat aerofoil, that is designed to spin about an axis perpendicular to the direction of its flight? We’re already off-track here! It’s been a rough couple weeks for your dear, dear, dear, most dearest friend Beddict, for not only has he been given the cold shoulder by Razzball Radio/TV, but he’s been c*ckblocked from writing for basketball next season. I’ll be making a televised announcement on where I’m taking my talents this Friday and “The Decision” may shock you. [Jay’s Note: Uh, Football Razzball?] Guru is hosting, it and will be naked. You won’t notice, for his body is 100 percent covered in tattoos. Anyway, you’re not here to listen to my whine and moan, you’re here for Disgrace/Delight!! Let’s bang this out like a meth’d out stripper!

Bryce Harper- Tha God is back!!! If you’re new to Beddict(me) then there’s a chance you missed THIS outstanding column from the pre-season. Read it and weep, for Bryce is our savior. Praise him.

“All this time, I had a dead possum on my head and I didn’t even realize it.” That was overheard recently by Selig. There should be a rule that anyone that can’t make the determination that their toupee is obvious to everyone should not be in any high-powered position. Rule number two: They should be able to hear. Or maybe he’s saying to an off-camera female reporter, “Where can I get one earring like that for this ear?” But since Selig can’t figure out the most-basic concepts, I’m going to break it down to him real simple as I did on yesterday’s Razzball TV on the Radio. How do people get excited about a particular day if no one knows when the hell that day is? Super Two status day is, um, well, no one has any idea! It changes for every player. A team could think they’re delaying it now and in two years realize they haven’t delayed it. Major League Baseball should say all rookies keep the extra year of eligibility if they stay down until May 31st. So this way everyone can focus on June 1st as the big day. Or make it June 5th. I don’t care, just make it one day so fans can get excited about a specific day. Like how there is a trading deadline. Any the hoo! For Jon Singleton, it’s irrelevant because the Astros gave him a contract and he will now be their starting 1st baseman. I already gave you my Singleton fantasy, it went like this, “Singleton was suspended for 50 games last year for smoking marijuana. Singleton wasn’t even tested until he kept forgetting the pitch count and called time out to grab some nachos. After his suspension, Singleton said, “I made an error in judgement. I should’ve cleansed by downing a 3-liter jug of cranberry juice rather than Nature’s Way Detox Tea. Damn you, Tommy Chong, for endorsing that inferior product!” Any self-respecting marijuana smoker will tell you that players aren’t suspended for DUIs but marijuana gets them… Then they trail off and their argument becomes less coherent and they’ll ask if they can borrow your Snuggie so they can take a nap. We should throw out his 2013 season. Who knows how long it took for him to return to form after his suspension. He’s still a prospect and only 22 years old. In 2012, Singleton hit 21 homers with 7 steals and a .284 average in 131 games. That’s more like what his minor league season should look like, and he does have 30-homer power, but won’t hit for a huge average. He strikes out too much. Singleton reminds me a lot of fellow Astro, Chris Carter. See, the truth is out there. Maybe Chris Carter and Jon Singleton can get together and make an X-Filez movie. Last year, Carter hit 29 homers and .223 with an insanely terrible 36.2% strikeout percentage. Singleton could do the same. More than likely, he won’t be quite that bad for average. Singleton could hit for the same amount of power and hit for a .260 average. Singleton will give you a line of 32/14/39/.258/4 and be up in June.” And that’s me quoting me! I’d grab him in every league for the chance for some sweet, sweet upside, and have already. Here’s hoping he can fill my giant gaping, Fielder-sized hole at 1st base. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:

Oh, how we are going to miss Mariano Rivera. I’ve never owned him, but always wished I did. Personally, I’m a Yankee hater, but I always enjoyed watching him work his ninth inning magic like a smooth pick up artist. So now we are left without one of the greatest closers to ever play the game and a permanent fixture on the $12 salad menu. But like all things fantasy, we must move on and start prepping for next season by keeping our minds sharp and our cheat sheets easily accessible. The great mix up called free agency and the winter meetings are just a stones throw away and will hopefully give us some clarity into what comes next.

Welcome to the year end Razzball awards. I’m your host, Grey Albright and I’m joined by Random Italicized Voice, Hey. Also, on the red carpet for everyone’s arrival we have, Comatose Blue Jays Fan, “Hurry up, the Blue Jays are gonna be facing the Yankees tonight on Fox.” And up in the balcony critiquing everyone’s outfits we have Clunky Segue, “As I was saying…” Before the show even begins, we have a very special musical guest, Lighter Shade of Brown! Live from opening for Kanye West! Not playing on stage with him, but literally opening doors for him. They now work as doormen. At hotels. It’s very sad. Anyway, here’s the 2013 Razzball Year End Awards:

Yesterday, it was the day of the pitcher. Since I started this blog, I can’t remember a more pitcher dominated day. Did anyone get a hit yesterday in any game outside of Coors? Put on your long johns with the flap on the butt, the Dead-ball Era is back. Yesterday reminded me when I was in a heated battle for 1st place in my first fantasy league. The year was nineteen-naught-eight. Skeets Lincoln was a staunch racist, unlike his great-uncle, and I hated him for it, but my Gramsie said, “You’re gonna get polio sitting on the radiator,” and I realized how short life was so I grabbed Skeets and he went 1-for-4 with 4 steals (at that time there were seven bases between first and home). Yesterday, Kyle Lohse threw a gem, but, really, who didn’t. He kept the Braves to two hits with no walks and five Ks. He ends the year with a 3.35 ERA and less Ks than a Klan rally as Skeets would’ve said. Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:

As the Fantasy Baseball season comes to end, it’s time for one more visit to the Razzball Fantasy Lounge where we fake baseball scribes are collectively licking our wounds, sticking pins in our Ryan Braun voodoo doll and drowning our sorrows in $1 beers and cheap whiskey shots. On this last lazy Sunday of the Fantasy Baseball season we find Sky in a dark corner slowly rocking back and forth muttering the words, “Colabello, Colabello, Colabello.” Bellying up to the bar is our resident podcaster Nick, disheveled and demanding another Canadian Club, cursing his last place Blue Jays and wondering, “Is there a CFL Fantasy League?” Dropping his last quarter in the jukebox, JayWrong selects The Doors “The End” and simply asks, “Anyone think Mike Trout is the number 1 pick next year?” *bottle smashes above head* Meanwhile, in the parking lot we find Tehol in the backseat of his 1977 Impala locking lips with this sweet “lady” he’ll soon discover has more hair on her back than George “The Animal” Steele -“NOT AGAIN!!” Here at the pool table is your humble-but-nonetheless-handsome Guru contemplating his final list of fantasy ballers that’ll score you the championship, bragging rights and maybe a little cash in your FBB league. *closes eye, takes aim, sinks eight ball off two rails, drops shot glass into pint, downs boilermaker, throws up on Grey’s snakeskin boots* “Sorry, boss.”

So, some of you may be asking, where’s the Photoshop yo? With or without the ‘yo’ maybe. I don’t judge. But yes, that would be a great a question, seeing as how there is no picture located north of this paragraph. A better question would be, how did you get so spoiled? It’s not my fault Photoshop went buggy on me. So instead of crowing one of my pieces of artwork upon these Daily Fantasy Notes, I will try to create a solid, if not spectacular lede for all your fine lady and gentlemen.

Yes, Grey likes to mention we have at least three or four female readers, but I think my estimate of a non-pluralized ‘lady’, which, according to my math, equals one, or perhaps even less than one is closer to the real number. How can I be so sure? Well, it’s probably because I’m not counting our mothers.

So, can you tell I have no idea what to lede about? Seriously. I have nothing, nadda. Zilch. Could it be because another baseball season is almost in the books? Or is it because I want to nap? Why not both? But yes, as the title establishes, we have very little time left. And that I also like The Doors. There is one more week of baseball left, and on an even sadder note, there is only one more Saturday left for us to gather and speak of Friday night baseball. Always remember that I will look upon these times with awe. Especially this specific instance, where I actually was able to write a lede based on nothing. So yay me! (All complaints are to be forwarded to Photoshop.) Here’s what I noticed yesterday…

Felix Hernandez was scratched from his Wednesday start with an oblique strain. Guys and four girl readers, you can’t be too precious with your guys. That whole credo “dance with the one who brought you” is real cavalier. You’re a real gentleman as you lounge about in sweat pants while your woman cooks you dinner. It’s honorable. Remind me to submit you to the Reader’s Digest Five Humans That Make A Difference contest. It’s also silly for fantasy baseball. Save your loyalty for your kids when they ask you, “Daddy, do you like me more than your automobile?” Or, “Daddy, how come you were hugging the mail lady for ten minutes with your hands on her butt?” Forget your loyalty for your starting pitchers (or hitters). Felix could throw this weekend to see if he can start again this year. If you’re strapped for space, I’d absolutely look elsewhere. What’s the worst thing that happens? You miss two starts from him? His last starts weren’t even great. You could find better starts off of waivers. Look at me having faith in you! Anyway, here’s what else I saw yesterday in fantasy baseball:

The McC went 1-for-2 last night with a run. Not really numbers deserving of the lede, but since I only get to do this once a week, I do what I want. And plus, I had already done my photoshop before the game ended. So there’s that. Truth be told, I really have nothing else to say about Andrew McCutchen. It is a very fine season. You know that. I know that. Sky… may not know that. He’s busy helping out all you folks that don’t have a Fantasy Baseball team in the running over at RazzFoot. That’s what I’m calling our Fantasy Football site. Because 20 years ago, I loved the Ninja Turtles. You know, the Foot Clan? RazzFoot? NINJA VANISH! Eh. Whatever. The McCutch is having a great year. He’s having a great Fantasy Baseball year. To hate him is to hate kittens. To love him is to not spell it McCutcheon. Start spreading the word. Here’s what else I noticed yesterday:

The man, the myth, the legend. I speak not of young Xander, he who was blessed to be featured in this article, but of myself, Tehol Beddict, good at many things and great at more. Greetings noble readers! It is you that keeps me cognizant at 4 am, even with an enormous modeling audition tomorrow in Vegas. I’d rather pluck and eat my pet chicken than dissatisfy what few consistent readers I have. That is saying something, for my chicken has been with me now for 7 years, accompanying me on my countless cross country trips and movie shoots. She even attended a recent Kenny Chesney concert with myself and my good buddy Riley Cooper. WHOOPS! Without Beatrice I would be lost, but if I were to lose you readers I would likely go back to the bath salts, possibly eat human flesh, and start writing for footballnation.com again. Those were loathsome times I tell you.